


Protocol

by thefilthiestpiglet



Series: Steve the Very Good Handler [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Blood, HYDRA Trash Party, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Rape Recovery, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5324471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefilthiestpiglet/pseuds/thefilthiestpiglet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collab effort as the result of an HTP prompt: Winter Solder thinks that Steve is his handler, and so he shows up at Steve's door with a "Super Solder Starter Kit" -- box full of weapons, armor, and "discipline equipment" (ie sex toys and restraints).  [<a href="http://hydratrashmeme.dreamwidth.org/1634.html?thread=3375458#cmt3375458">full prompt here</a>]</p><p>This part by thefilthiestpiglet.  Direct sequel <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5324735">here</a>, by Kallanda</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protocol

It's been a long day, and Steve was glad to be back at his apartment for once -- he'd spent the last two days at Sam's, deciphering the folder that Nat had left him. There weren't many pages, but each page contained new horrors of either what they did to Bucky, or what they made Bucky do to other people. By 10pm though, Sam had looked at him and told him to go home, take a break. Sam had looked about as tired as Steve felt when he told Steve, "You need the weekend to process everything, and so do I. See you for our usual run on Monday?"

So when Steve got home and turned on his lights, he was thinking about collapsing on his bed. Instead, he found Bucky sitting at the kitchen table.

"You are Steve Rogers." Bucky stood up neatly. Body stiff and at attention in a nondescript black hoodie.

"Yes." Steve was wary. Bucky'd pulled him out of the river, but the way he looked at him now -- Bucky was clearly still the Winter Soldier. And frankly Steve was too tired from... well, everything -- the helicarriers, the hospital, the political fallout, the Winter Soldier files... A part of Steve knew he should be happier to see Bucky, but he really just wanted to sleep.

"Are you my handler?" Bucky's voice cut through Steve's drowsiness.

Steve ran his hand through his hair and frowned, trying to grasp the question. "No, I'm not your handler. I'm your friend. We grew up together..."

"Inseparable in the school yard and on the battlefield...." Bucky's voice perfectly parroted the pomp of the Smithsonian exhibit. "Captain America's right hand man." Then he returned to his normal voice. "You were my handler. You can be my new handler."

Steve shook his head. "No." He'd just spent the last two days reading about how Bucky was handled. "I'm not your handler. You don't need a handler anymore."

A brief look of ... was it disappointment? flashed across Bucky's face. "Very well." Bucky abruptly turned and started heading out a window.

"Bucky, wait! Where are you going?" Steve wasn't about to just let Bucky leave, but chasing him didn't seem the right thing to do either.

"The Asset can't sleep until he has reported to his handler." Bucky looked him in the eye. "If you're not my handler, I need to find one."

But that meant -- it's been a week since they took down Project Insight. Had Bucky been going without sleep for that long? Steve's own exhaustion felt petty as he took in the dark bags under Bucky's eyes, the ones that he'd mistaken for lingering combat paint. What had they done to Bucky to make him think that... "Bucky, HYDRA's gone now. You can sleep without a handler."

"The handler monitors the Asset's health and checks for irregularities. Just as the Asset helps the handler execute the assigned missions, the handler helps the Asset stay in peak condition." Bucky seemed to be reciting from some manual now.

Okay. Clever of HYDRA to set it up such that Bucky actively seeks out monitoring. Then again, they *did* have 70 years to convince Bucky that he needed HYDRA for survival. There's plenty of time to unpack that later, but in the immediate, it meant that if Steve wanted Bucky to stay, to sleep, he'd have to...

"Fine. I'm your handler." Steve sighed. He'll deal with the consequences tomorrow. "Now stay and rest up."

Bucky was back in the room almost instantly, and looked about curiously. "Where, sir?"

Steve gestured as he stifled a yawn. "Anywhere. There's a bed in the bedroom if you want that."

Bucky quickly settled for the armchair by the window. Of course. It was the safest place in the room. Nick Fury was no fool for picking that spot, either. But more than that, Steve was taken aback by the sudden change in Bucky's posture. Bucky had been tense and stiff during their conversation, but once Steve accepted the role of the handler ... well, now Bucky was nodding off, loose-limbed and unguarded. Steve fetched a blanket, which earned him a pleasant "Thank you, sir." 

Steve held his tongue, and said as gently as possible, "Good night, Bucky."

And, somewhere from underneath the blanket, he heard Bucky mumble in reply, "G'night, Steve."

Steve knew he should go back to his room and his bed, but that seemed too far away, especially when Bucky was here, now. Bucky'd called him Steve. Well, he also called him sir, but somewhere underneath it all ... Steve yawned. Bucky had come to Steve. Bucky remembered Steve. The rest could wait 'til morning.

\---

The next morning the armchair was empty. Steve checked his small apartment, and also the fire escapes and rooftop. Dammit, he didn't think he'd sleep through Bucky leaving, but then again they'd trained Bucky to be silent.

Steve paced the living room. He should call Sam. But Sam had looked like he really needed some down time. Steve shouldn't be a bother -- Sam's barely had time to check in with his family since a bunch of buildings fell on him, and really, Bucky was Steve's responsibility.... Steve plopped down on the armchair and stared out the window, looking for a flicker of Bucky's hoodie and baseball cap. Bucky was going to come back. Bucky *had* to come back. Bucky had remembered him...

The front door clicked open, and Steve heard a heavy thump on the floor. Steve leapt toward the sound. "Bucky!" Bucky stood stock still by the doorway, tense and radiating so much wariness that Steve pulled himself up short. Right. This wasn't 1945, and Bucky wasn't exactly Bucky. Steve swallowed. "You're back."

Bucky gave him a quizzical look. "Of course. You're my handler." Oh yeah, that. Steve had hoped that wasn't the only reason why Bucky came back. "I went to fetch the handler field maintenance kit." Bucky gestured at the heavy three-tiered box that he'd just dropped on the floor. Steve frowned at the box, he hadn't really wanted to be Bucky's handler -- he just wanted to help Bucky get some rest.... then he heard both his and Bucky's stomach rumble, and leapt at the distraction.

"Um, that's good. Why don't we have some breakfast first?" Steve opened the fridge and started pulling out some eggs. "I usually start with half a dozen, do you still like yours scrambled?"

Bucky didn't budge from his position. "I am to instruct a new handler on my proper use and maintenance. Permission to begin, sir?"

Judging by Bucky's tense form, it looked like this had to come before breakfast, but Steve tried again. "Bucky, I'm glad you're back, but let's figure out this handler stuff later. Together."

"But it's protocol." There's a finality in Bucky's voice as he began reciting, "The handler must first be deemed suitable for managing the asset through a training session. Only then can he be allowed unrestricted interaction with the asset."

Steve sighed and pulled up a chair. A training session, in exchange for "unrestricted interaction." Seemed like this was a routine that that Bucky had to run through before he could talk to him properly. Steve thought back to last night, how much Bucky relaxed once he found his handler and had permission to sleep. He wanted that back, and if the only way he could get that was to sit through a training session --- "All right, what do we have here?" Steve thought back to the file he'd spent 2 days poring over, and braced himself. Handler field maintenance kit sounded just innocuous enough to hold instruments of torture.

Bucky took off his hoodie and opened the first tier of the box. It was actually surprisingly straightforward: weapons and weapons maintenance for the Winter Soldier's missions. Bucky carefully went through a mind-numbing array of guns and knives, and described in detail when he would use it during a mission and where he would keep it on his body. At the end, he turned to Steve. "These are just the basics, sir. The more specialized weapons are back at the base. I am proficient in all of them."

Steve nodded. A bit chilling to think about how many people Bucky has killed with these, but .. so far, so good. Then Bucky stood back up and raised his arms. "Please suit me up with three hand grenades, two knives, the Glock 19, and the SIG."

Steve didn't expect a quiz, but that made sense -- they needed to make sure that the handler could do his job of supplying Bucky with the right weapons in the field. And given that Bucky was trained to be the most efficient killing machine, out in the field was where Bucky got to call the shots. Steve scrolled through his memory, picked out the correct weapons and began strapping them onto Bucky. It was a simple enough task, but as he knelt down to latch on the holster around Bucky's thigh, he couldn't help breathing in the closeness of Bucky. They didn't even do this during the war. Steve took a calming breath and stilled his heart. Later, he told himself.

Satisfied with Steve's handiwork, Bucky pulled out a small gun and a case from his pants pocket and handed it to Steve. "Very good. As you have proven yourself trustworthy in supporting the Asset during a mission, in return, you are now trusted with the ability to take the Asset out during a mission." Steve shivered. Bucky's voice was a perfect mimicry of Alexander Pierce. Steve couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing in some HYDRA lab somewhere, instead of in his apartment. Then Bucky shifted to a different, calm instructional voice. "Tranquilizer darts. Designed to take effect on the Asset within three seconds. One to three is the recommended dosage, depending on where it's applied." From the number of voices that Bucky switched between, Steve figured that he was playing at least three different roles in this not-so-standard handler training session. 

Bucky clearly wanted Steve to carry the dart gun on him, and Steve briefly thought about how the fight on the helicarrier would have played out if he had this. Then he remembered the list in the Winter Soldier file of all the different chemical tests that they'd done on Bucky. Steve put the gun and darts down on the table. "Thank you, Bucky. What's next?"

Bucky then took off his shirt and unlatched the second tier. It contained a field med kit and other items that seem designed to take care of Bucky after a mission. Bucky went through each item and listed out its optimal use given his injury recovery times. Steve paid more attention how that he knew there was probably a quiz at the end. Bucky's recovery times were pretty similar to Steve's and the field med kit was well stocked and quite similar to what he'd seen in the SHIELD kits. Not surprising since HYDRA and SHIELD were basically one, Steve thought bitterly. Steve was actually somewhat relieved to see that HYDRA cared enough about Bucky's overall health to include an emergency blanket and enough field rations for a few days. At least they weren't starving him.

Bucky then pulled out a long plastic tube from his pocket. "This is the gastro-intestinal tube for proper feeding." He offered it to Steve. "It's not part of the field kit, but if I am to stay here a while you will need to use it. I brought some bottles as well, so when you are ready, I can instruct you on its use."

Steve took the tube. Another present of sorts, but this time it was from Bucky, not Pierce. Bucky clearly wanted Steve to be his handler, since he'd taken these long-term logistics into account. But it also told Steve that Bucky's only food sources during his captivity were nutrient slush and field rations for the duration of his captivity. The tube suddenly felt heavy in his hands, so he put it down on the table, as well. "Let's figure that out after this, Bucky."

Bucky nodded, then pulled a thin metal band from the box. "This fits around my head and detects brainwave patterns. It's used during sleep." Bucky's voice took a turn as he once again recited, "Out in the field, there are three options: One, the asset does not sleep at all. Two, the asset must be woken up every two hours to prevent REM sleep. Three is the sleep monitor band. It wakes the asset up automatically if any unnatural brain activity is detected." Bucky looked up helpfully. "You didn't use any of those methods last night, which is why I figured you didn't already have a handler maintenance kit." He handed the band to Steve. "We can start using this tonight."

Steve put that back in the box, making a mental note to throw it away as soon as he is able. If HYDRA was afraid to let Bucky sleep properly, the best thing he can do is the opposite.

Then came the quiz. Steve was instructed to remove Bucky's weapons and apply field dressing appropriate for a broken rib. This time, Steve managed to keep his hands firm as he carefully reached around Bucky's torso to apply the bandages. Thankfully he was standing behind Bucky, so Bucky didn't catch the way Steve blushed as he ran his hands along the bandages to check for proper tension. It was wrong, Steve knew. They hadn't seen each other in years. They didn't do much of anything before that, and now Bucky considered Steve his handler.

Bucky chose to remove the dressing himself, then he nodded in satisfaction. "Excellent." Steve winced, it was Pierce's voice again. "You have proven yourself trustworthy in caring for the Asset outside of a mission, in return, you are now trusted with the ability to discipline him if the need arises."

Shit. Steve looked down just as Bucky opened the bottom tier, and he had to swallow back his nausea. After the relative sanity of the first two tiers, he'd forgotten about the torture.

Bucky took off the rest of his clothes and knelt, naked, by the case of implements. Bucky's nakedness carried with it a sense of dread that sufficiently killed whatever flushed thoughts were wondering around Steve's brain earlier. Steve forced himself to look at the box.

He recognized the magnetic cuffs instantly, and there was a spiked whip that was mentioned on page 8 of Bucky's file. The time lapse photos of Bucky healing from bloody streaks that ran deep enough to show bone was etched as deeply in his brain.

"Oh! A lot of the discipline methods I'll describe work better in conjunction with this." Bucky helpfully leaned forward and pulled out a stun baton from his discarded pants. "This comes standard issue with HYDRA, but you don't seem to have it, so I packed an extra." Another present from Bucky. Steve knew how this one felt on the body. And if this was considered a staple to Bucky's punishment ... Steve wanted to throw it out the window. He put it on the table instead.

Then, in the same tone of voice that he used to describe the functions of his weapons, Bucky went through the applications of the magnetic cuffs, the electric shock collar, and the spiked whip. There was also a radio control that disabled Bucky's arm and had the option to send shocks of varying degrees. Steve supposed it was a small blessing that he'd done his crying and vomiting the day before when he first read about these in Bucky's file. He wished those things had stayed in the form of grainy pictures, but really, he had no right to complain -- this was all stuff that had been used on Bucky. And if Bucky could sit there naked and talk about it the way he'd talk about field dressing... well, Steve owed Bucky that much to listen.

But that was only half of the box. Steve didn't recognize the other rods and spikes that peppered the other half.

Bucky looked apologetic as he pulled out a thick metal rod that was dotted with bumps. "The standard issue anal insertion device should be 10 inches, but Commander Rumlow used it so much he accidentally broke it. There weren't any other kits at the base, so I got this replacement from a store this morning." Something must have showed on Steve's face as he processed the fact that this was Rumlow's handler kit that Steve was inheriting. "Don't worry," Bucky hurried to amend. "Even though this is only 9 inches, I think we can sharpen the bumps into spikes, and I will bleed just as well. Especially if you turn it while it's inside me and use the baton."

Steve was glad he didn't have breakfast yet, because otherwise it'd be all over the floor right now. They did *this* to Bucky? *Rumlow* did it so much that he *broke* a dildo? He always knew Rumlow had a sadistic streak but... Steve slumped down next to Bucky and held his head between his knees.

"It's all right." Bucky laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "There are other bases, I can probably find one that has a more complete field kit if you prefer the standard issue devices." Steve was sure Bucky meant it to be reassuring, but the thought that this stuff came standard issue for all of Bucky's handlers just made it worse. Standard issue meant a lot of testing. Standard issue meant designed for maximum efficiency. "Besides, this part of the field kit is the most customizable and up to handler discretion. As long as the implements elicited the appropriate submission responses from the asset." Great. Now Steve was picturing Rumlow standing in front of a wall of dildos and gleefully picking ones to try on Bucky for the appropriate "submission response." Steve wanted to to drop another building on Rumlow.

In this hazy state, Steve missed the first part of Bucky's introduction of the gags and bits. There was something about how long each should be kept in the mouth for maximum pain and discomfort. "The spider gag is only effective if you intend to use it in conjunction with items you wish to insert. It does not cause direct pain as the others do, but handlers have found that it is very effective in rendering tears and docility. Cigarettes, discarded food items, and the stun baton all work, in addition to the regular male penis." Bucky added with some contrition, "It takes about 10 to make me start crying, though." Steve clenched his fist. Fuck those sadistic bastards. They gang-raped as Bucky as a form of punishment. Took pleasure and had the nerve to call it discipline. And then taught Bucky to evaluate all of this in terms of maximum effectiveness. Steve straightened looked around: he needed to punch something before he lost it.

Bucky, meanwhile, was plowing ahead. "The nose hook isn't used too frequently, but due to its small size, it has been standard in the kit since..."

"Stop." Steve grabbed Bucky's hand and managed to direct him to put down the small contraption. "Bucky, I don't want to know any more of this." Steve directed his shaking energy to gritting his teeth so that he wouldn't hurt Bucky with his grip.

"But if you don't know all of their uses, how will you pick one to try? What if you use one incorrectly?" Bucky was all innocent confusion.

"I won't be using any of these." Steve managed to spit out. 

Bucky paled. "But you *have* to, you're my handler, and this is part of being my handler. Otherwise they'd punish *you*. I *remember*. They made sure of that."

Something in Bucky's voice caught Steve up short.

Bucky looked down. "Vanya was a good teammate, and so when my previous handler transferred, I requested him." Bucky dragged his eyes across the implements laid out beside him. "But he couldn't pass this part of the handler training, so they used this on *him.*" Steve'd forgotten about the quiz at the end of each tier. There was a sick knot in the pit of his stomach. So this is how HYDRA enforced their world order: punish the Asset as instructed, or be punished yourself.

Bucky fingered the metal dildo and sighed. "It would have been easier if he just used it on me. Instead he... disappeared." Bucky's face took a deeply familiar look of worry. "Steve I don't want that to happen to you."

Steve tried a different tack. He needed the reassure Bucky that he won't get punished for refusing to inflict this on Bucky. What would be a good HYDRA argument for not completing this final bit of handler training? "Well, this is for discipline, right? You haven't done anything that merits punishment, so I have no reason to use this. And they won't punish me for following proper handler protocols."

Bucky's frown stayed. "It's not just for discipline. Some of this is also common use for team bonding exercises, or just for fun. A handler is expected to know how to use these implements." God, a part of Steve had to admire the way HYDRA set this up, the internal logic of this give-and-take. Serve HYDRA in maintaining the asset in the field, and you get rewarded with the asset's body afterwards. And if you refuse, you are punished by HYDRA. What an efficient way of making sure everyone knows who their true master was.

Bucky gently loosened himself from Steve's grip and said softly. "Let me finish explaining this, Steve, and then you just have to test one."

Steve blinked back the sudden tears as Bucky returned to his task. Now that he thought about it, the questions for the previous two tiers were ridiculously easy. Even now, Bucky was trying to protect Steve, get him through the handler training as gently as possible.

This was just like last night: Bucky couldn't relax until the full protocol was carried out, and small wonder, if this was but an iota of the punishment that would await him. But at the same time, he desperately wanted Steve to be his handler. The flash of disappointment last night, all these gifts and softball questions today. This wasn't just the Winter Soldier needing protocol, this was Bucky needing Steve.

Steve looked at all the instruments of torture before him. If the only way past this is through... He thought back to Bucky's relaxed sleeping form the night before. His mutter of "G'night, Steve." He wanted that Bucky back.

Fine. Steve stood and picked up the whip. "Wait here, I'll be back in a few minutes."

Steve allowed himself a moment to punch his bed once he closed the bedroom door. He pictured punching Rumlow's smug grin off his face. Punching Alexander Pierce' beatific smile and Arnim Zola's wire-framed glasses. The punching felt good. Steve sat back. But it didn't solve the problem at hand, which was that he still had to play through this sadistic HYDRA charade. It made the taking down of Project Insight seem like a pyrrhic victory if HYDRA's protocols were still around, embedded in his best friend, and who knows where else. No, he'll think about that later. Steve looked at the whip in his hand and tried to remind himself that this was the least-bad option. Surface pain and no other forms of violation or humiliation. He wasn't sticking some metal dildo up Bucky's ass or cuffing Bucky and forcing his cock in Bucky's mouth. Steve took off his shirt and gave himself some test strikes on his arm and body. Painful, but nowhere as bad as it looked in the photos. For the scars to run that deep, they must have whipped Bucky for... No, Steve's not going to think about that right now. He just had to get through the protocol. Bucky's waiting.

Bucky's eyes widened slightly as he took in the marks on Steve's torso, but he remained kneeling on the floor, expectant. "There's no rules in the protocol against the handler hitting himself?" Bucky slowly shook his head as he processed the implication of the question. Steve wasn't about to let Bucky take any punishment that he wasn't going to give himself.

Bucky looked up as Steve stood over him. Steve took in the sight of Bucky, naked, trusting. Bucky had chosen to be here, had chosen Steve to be his handler, had given him gifts. "Okay, let's get this over with, then we can have breakfast." Bucky nodded, then presented his back to Steve and said in his instructional voice. "Please use at least one of the instruments to discipline the Asset."

Steve took a deep breath, and focused on getting through this. He kept his eyes on the target as he struck.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're curious why I stopped here, here's the [relevant bit of the prompt thread](http://hydratrashmeme.dreamwidth.org/1634.html?thread=3381858#cmt3381858).
> 
> I'm on tumblr: [thefilthiestpiglet](http://thefilthiestpiglet.tumblr.com)


End file.
